Author: Morgan72uk
Rating: T
Summary: Women with red hair are being killed and no one thinks it's a coincidence that the victims look like the Director of NCIS. This is going to get complicated and very messy and there are no guarantees that everyone will make it out in one piece.
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, don't have any money - and I probably shouldn't be doing this.
A/N So - I wasn't going to write this story, but somehow I just couldn't help myself, I'm drawn to messed up relationships and I things don't get much messier than Gibbs and Jen. I should probably point out that this isn't a casefile, though it sort of involves an investigation - I will do my best to avoid procedural howlers, but they might slip through - also, I'm a Brit, so I might not always get the Americanisms right (though I probably won't get things as wrong as Ziva does).
I've been unsure about when this story is set - the end of season 3 and the beginning of season 4 definitely happened in this universe. As I don't know how the situation with the Frog and his daughter plays out I'm going to leave that alone - though I do like Madame Director with a few dark edges. It is a Jibbs story - but maybe not with a tradionally happy ending.
Seeing Red – part 1
Perhaps he should have known, perhaps his famous gut should have warned him that something was coming, something corrosive and evil. But, while he believed in that gut instinct, he likely wouldn't have believed in a premonition, even if he'd had one – which he hadn't. In fact, when the call came he'd been working on his boat and all he felt was a vague sense of irritation that his evening had been interrupted.
On a good day Leroy Jethro Gibbs might have spared half a glance for his surroundings, he might have appreciated being out of doors on a fine evening in late summer. But, in his mind this place had already become a crime scene, already his attention had moved to the victim, though he hadn't even seen the body yet. Already he had determined that they would get justice for her – and he was not a man who welcomed the idea of failure.
The setting sun filtered through the leaves, shafts of light illuminating the gloom of the small copse. Somewhere nearby there was a stream and the sound of running water broke the silence. But, what should have been a scene of peace and tranquillity instead bore the marks of violent death. The air carried the slight scent of decay and the birds and animals had fled – disturbed by the intrusion of fear and violence into their midst.
He was ahead of his team as they walked through the copse on the way to the place the body had been found. Unfortunately he was still close enough to have to listen to Tony teasing McGee, interspersed with snatches of Ducky telling Ziva about something that might, after all, turn out to be relevant.
The young cop who'd been first to respond was coming to a halt – gesturing ahead of her to the already taped off area. He could tell she wasn't quite sure what to make of the Navy cops who'd been summoned as soon as she and her colleagues has found the Navy id next to the body. They got a lot of that.
As she stepped aside to let him get a look at the victim, Gibbs opened his mouth to start giving orders and then stopped – too shocked to even contemplate speaking.
Behind him someone dropped a case, he heard Ducky's shocked exclamation; but it all felt like an echo, something happening to someone else. He couldn't speak; his throat had tightened up, but had he been capable of speech he might have been moved to say that, in death, Jenny Shepherd looked like an angel.
She looked younger, less burdened – not at all like a woman who knew a great deal about secrets and darkness. He was glad, which was absurd because he knew that Jen would not have wanted to look peaceful in death. She would have wanted to go down fighting, raging against whatever or whoever had claimed her life. He couldn't even spare the time to mourn her now; he had to focus on finding whoever had done this. He had to control his anger and his need to avenge her.
He blinked, his vision cleared and he realised that she looked younger for a reason. Mere seconds had passed; the waves of shock were still coming off the rest of his team. As he stepped closer to the body someone, DiNozzo he thought, tried to speak to him – but he waved him away and crouched down beside the body.
He looked up and down – carefully; critically and only when he was certain did he brush a finger against her hairline – and wasn't surprised when it moved.
"It isn't the Director," he glanced back over his shoulder at his team, "she looks like her, but she's younger, shorter and a little heavier – and she's wearing a wig. It's not her – OK?"
He looked at each team member – letting them see his certainty and, as they believed him, their shock disappeared and their professionalism kicked in. His turned to the cop, who clearly had no idea what had just happened, "she looks like a colleague," he said briefly and then before she could ask anymore questions he started giving orders. "DiNozzo, photographs, McGee – talk to the hikers who found the body, Ziva – check the periphery."
He watched them for a moment and then yielded his place to Ducky. His old friend opened his mouth to speak – and then clearly thought better of it, but Gibbs didn't have time for whatever the Doctor was worried about, instead he fished out his cell phone and dialled a familiar number.
"Where is she?" he demanded as soon as the call was answered, cutting straight across Cynthia's phone manner.
"Agent Gibbs, the Director is just on her way out to a meeting and…"
"Find her and put her on, it can't wait."
But apparently it had to, at least for a few moments. While he waited, he watched his team – but almost without realising it, his gaze kept drifting back to the body. She really did look a lot like Jen, though the hair helped with the resemblance and her body shape was different. Even with a gap of 8 years he knew enough about that to make a decent comparison.
"What can I do for you Agent Gibbs?" She sounded irritated, downright snippy in fact, which was probably the final thing to convince him that she was still very much alive – and kicking.
"You need to cancel your meeting and lock down the building. No one gets in and no one leaves – including you. Not until we get back."
"I can't cancel my meeting, it's with…"
"I don't care who it's with – I am standing looking at a body of a woman who bears more than a passing resemblance to you and has a Navy id. Someone made sure they got us here – they wanted to send us a message. Let's make sure we hear it." He flipped the phone shut before she could respond to that and crossed towards Ducky, who was bending over the body.
"What do you have?"
"From my preliminary examination it looks as though she was strangled," he gestured towards the livid marks around the victims neck, "but I'll know more when I get her back to autopsy."
"Weapon?"
"From what I can see so far, I'd say he used his hands." They shared a glance, manual strangulation was a very personal crime, "there may be more injuries."
"Defensive wounds?"
"Not so far – she could have been drugged," Gibbs nodded and then Ducky asked,
"Do you think the resemblance is a coincidence?" He sighed, already sure of the answer to that particular question – even if that was the only thing he was sure of right now.
"I don't believe in coincidences."
The last of the daylight had slipped away by the time they had finished at the crime scene. The echo of familiarity in the victim's features had already made this case a personal one, for all of them; no one was talking much and even Tony was subdued. They might all, at times, have had issues with the Director's decisions, might have complained, loudly, about her strictures. But that was internal, it resembled nothing so much as family squabbles and it was balanced by the knowledge that she used her contacts and her influence when they needed her to. They were allowed to complain about her, but when outsiders threatened her life then there was no question about whose side they came down on.
The Agency was on lock down when they got back – and no one, including the Director, had left. Now that he was back on the premises Gibbs was prepared to lift some of the restrictions on his fellow agents – although as far as he was concerned the Director wasn't going anywhere.
He sent McGee down to Abby, with the evidence they'd collected at the scene, Tony and Ziva were on their way to Bethesda – to find out more about their victim who'd turned out to be a nurse stationed there. Which meant he was the lucky person who got to speak to Jen.
Cynthia was still at her desk and didn't make any attempt to stop him from going straight into the Director's office – which maybe should have warned him that something was wrong. But, when he saw who was sitting at her conference table he realised that while no one had left the building, someone had definitely arrived.
"Tobias,"
"Jethro," the two men exchanged nods – but Gibbs wasn't happy about arriving here to find the FBI waiting. He glanced over towards the desk, Jen was standing with her back to both of them, looking out of the windows. The desk lamp was on but the main lights were turned down low and the mood in the room was more than a little sombre.
"This is cosy," he said – trying to provoke the woman who, so far, had failed to respond to his appearance. He had been expecting to have to deal with her annoyance – but something had evidently happened before he got there. "The FBI interested in our new case?"
"Not exactly – it's more that it's our case," Fornell nodded towards the table and for the first time Gibbs noticed the two open files on the table. He took a step towards it, seeing the photos first.
"Tobias," he flicked another glance towards Jen, who still hadn't moved. He didn't like this, he didn't like that Jen hadn't spoken yet – she wasn't exactly a woman known for reticence. He didn't like that Fornell was here, with these files and that he'd brought them straight up to her. "Are you telling me that there are two other victims and we're just hearing about it now?" Fornell shifted in his seat, looking marginally uncomfortable,
"Look, no one connected the two cases until a couple of days ago; the first victim was Francine Harper – killed 2 months ago in DC, then Rebekah Murray – killed 2 weeks ago, in Nashua – both strangled. When her body was found, Francine's hair had been cut and dyed, Rebekah had red hair – but it had been cut. Both women were in their thirties and went missing approximately 24 hours before they died, both abducted during the day, as they were going about their normal lives."
Gibbs took a closer look at the photographs – noting the gash of red lipstick on the dead women's faces and forcing himself not to look over at the Director – knowing she wore the same shade.
"To be honest, the Bureau thought the perp was changing their appearance because of someone in his past, it didn't occur to anyone that we might be able to identify the woman he wanted them to look like. Not until I looked at the photographs and thought I saw – well," there was silence "and even then I wasn't sure - I thought it was a coincidence."
"Jethro doesn't believe in coincidences." Jen spoke for the first time, turning around at last. "So, assuming just this once, that he's right – what do we have?" She wasn't asking Fornell, her attention was entirely focussed on Gibbs and this was one of the times when he wasn't at all sure what she was thinking.
"So far, we appear to have three victims who bear some resemblance to you, arguably made to look more like you by cutting and /or dying their hair and this last time, with a wig. The most recent victim is a nurse at Bethesda – Lucy Simmonds, and apart from her hair, she could have been your sister. Not a coincidence – but it feels personal."
He was stating the obvious – but he suspected she knew that, she'd seen the files and had obviously drawn her own conclusions; there was no need to sugar coat things for her. "And I've been trying so hard not to make enemies recently," she remarked with only a trace of irony. "NCIS want jurisdiction," she continued, looking over at Fornell, "I assume that won't be a problem?"
"You can assume that," he responded. Gibbs rolled his eyes, recognising the grand standing for what it was and wondering if Tobias had suddenly developed a death wish. "I'll certainly make sure Langley are aware of your, interest."
"And will you also make sure that Langley know that I'll only co-operate with a NCIS investigation? Since this does seem to be about me, I imagine that will make things - difficult. I suppose you could slap a material witness order on me, force me to co-operate – but that feels messy, and I hate to see sister agencies argue when it's so, unnecessary."
"I thought you were trying not to make enemies."
"Did I say that?" She didn't even flinch, just raised an immaculate eyebrow at him – Gibbs had to admire the frost in her voice, he'd long since concluded that the woman had ice water in her veins. Fornell wasn't an idiot – he knew that she wouldn't change her mind and that in this case in would be very difficult to proceed without her co-operation. He shot Gibbs a sympathetic look, and shrugged.
"Fine – you get jurisdiction, I'll have the paperwork sent over – we'd like it if you kept us informed."
"Of course," now that she had got her own way, she was prepared to be magnanimous. On another day Jethro might even have been amused, the way a mouse was amused when the cat had picked something else to toy with.
When the door was closed and they were alone, Gibbs turned his attention back to Jen and found her looking down at the photos – she was tracing one of the images with her fingertip and for a split second, as long as it took to blink, her expression was vulnerable. But then it was gone. "So, Agent Gibbs – what do you think is going on?" His phone rang before he could answer and he flicked it open and listened to what DiNozzo had to say, frowning at the news, knowing how much it would complicate matters.
"The id is a plant," he told her when the call was over, "when DiNozzo and Ziva got to Bethesda, Lucy Simmonds was there – her bag was stolen 2 days ago, with her id in it. She was too scared to report it." Jen sighed,
"So, now the FBI are going to want their case back – I'll call Fornell."
"They aren't getting their case back, the planted id is the reason we need to keep it." She glanced down at the photographs again, two dead women gazing back her, a connection there that he couldn't fathom at the moment.
"You think this really has something to do with me Jethro – and don't tell me you don't believe in coincidences."
"OK, I won't tell you that. At the moment the evidence supports that theory – but as you know very well, at this stage in a case things can change rapidly. Hell, ten minutes ago I had no idea we were looking at 3 victims. It's too early to say anything for sure."
"You're going to look back through our old cases, see if anyone we put away has recently been released?" He nodded, it was clearly one of their next steps.
"I was going to put Ziva and DiNozzo on it when they get back – and we'll check out your anti-terror ops as well, talk to our 'sister agencies', see if anyone has come back on their watch lists recently."
"Some of that information is classified."
"But I have you – and Ziva, so I don't have to declassify it." He took a breath, half hoping she would work out the next bit for herself. But, when she showed no sign of having done so, he tilted his head, just a little. "And I'm going to need a list of anyone you've been involved with."
"You've got to be joking."
"You know I'm not." He wanted her to say something about only having one crazy ex-lover, but instead she nodded and turned back to her desk as though what he'd asked of her was the merest inconvenience.
"Fine, I'll have it for you in the morning." He watched without comment as she reached into the drawer at the side of her desk, took out her side arm, checked and loaded it before slipping it into the holster at her waist. He was relieved to see she was taking the situation seriously.
"You need to increase your personal security detail, change you schedule – until this is over."
"I know," she sat down behind her desk, put her glasses on and looked over them at him, "it's being dealt with, is there anything else?"
"Not at the moment." It was clearly gong to be business as usual – which was fine, right up until the moment that it wasn't. He turned, heading for the door – and then stopped and turned back. "We'll get him Jen."
"I know." She barely looked up at him, her attention fixed on the papers on her desk. He spared her one last glance before leaving. He might be able to tell when she was lying, but it had been a while since he'd been able to guess, with any confidence, what she was thinking. Which actually, was almost as worrying as the fact that there was a serial killer out there with a taste for red heads.
TBC